Remus spelled backwards is Harry
by sumeR's Girl
Summary: Set right after OotP. Remus' life background and then a revelation about his life and that of Harry's. RemusTonks implied, she's not a main character...yet...


**Remus Spelled Backwards is Harry**

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Disclaimer: My name's Emilee, not JKR. I do not own the characters or plot from Harry Potter, only the ideas and conclusions I draw from them.  
  
Summary: Set right after OotP. Terrible things have followed in Remus' wake since his mother was one month away from giving birth to him. Remus' life parallels Harry's in a way. This is what Remus thinks about it. Remus/Tonks shipper implied (Tonks is not a main character, just there).

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The problem with this constant pain is that I did not choose it. I did not know there was such a thing, I was oblivious. Then there it was, in my very own home town and my mother did not know what to do. She did not understand me fully until her end. I know that to this day, she blamed my illness on herself and almost took it to the grave with her. What mother, who loves her child - feeds him Chicken Noodle Soup and Sprite when he's sick, kisses and bandages his 'boo boos' to make them all better, and diapered and fed him as a baby - would like to be told that her son has an illness she cannot do anything to help him overcome, a lifetime of deformation that will forever impact his future? None. I am sure that is how she felt.

Think about it. For five years you watch your baby grow into a child. Then you watch him grow fur and claws. You watch him howl in self induced pain. You watch him walk on all fours and stalk his pray. You _are_ his prey - out of control.

Parents are the equivalent to the constant, the control, when a child is young. It is an instinct to protect their growing, innocent, spawn. My mother had no control over my protection as I bit and scratched, howled and bled. I went to a cottage out in the country once a month. I tore it to shreds and because there were no humans to bite and claw, I bit and scratched myself. The scars, they never fully heal. They pose as a reminder, of the dark portion of my life – the very essence and meaning of it.

Then there was Hogwarts. When Dumbledore said I could go, I assumed it was just a matter of time before he changed his mind -- so I read all the books at least twice, studied harder than a graduate student at university, and made friends while I could. I had never had any close friends before and as it turned out; being social for once has proved to be both the best and worst parts of my life. I was petrified of what James, Sirius and Peter would do if they found out. "My gran's ill ..." I would say as guilt spread through my body. "Again man, that sucks" James would reply. That was it. I never told them.

Then, one night out in the Shrieking Shack, just as I was beginning to transform, an enormous dog emerged from the trap door in the floor. The dog wagged his tail and seemed to be _smiling_ at me... a rat and stag followed him through the door. Once I had transformed entirely, I began to take a go at the dog. I had never actually harmed anything but myself while in my animal-state and no thoughts flew through my head, simply the animal's instincts to bite, scratch, chew, tear, and claw. He bit the back of my neck right back while the stag butted me with his antlers.

'Was that a _playful_ head butt' I thought? Then I realized I had just thought. A real thought. A human thought. I shivered and stood stock still looking at the three animals before me. They were laughing, it seemed. Yes, top boy of the class took at least a half hour of observation before he recognized his three best friends. When the stag casually bowed his head...and tripped the giant black shaggy dog... sending the rat into the air to land on the bed pillows, I got it. My fellow pranksters had figured out my secret and done the opposite of my greatest fear.

They did not abandon me, as I had figured they would, on the contrary, they would not leave me alone and we grew closer rather than further apart. We explored the forests, the town, and the school grounds by light of the full moon once a month - they had tamed me. All the while, I had guilt buried in the back of my mind. I knew that I had led them into becoming illegal animagi, and that I was defying all of professor Dumbledore's rules.

He had trusted and given me an education no other headmaster in the world, in the universe, would have allowed me a chance at. Yet, I still defied the few rules he had given me: to stay in the shack. That guilt followed me like a shadow until Sirius escaped Azkaban and all was revealed. I could not live with myself after I finally told the headmaster. I resigned.

If only my dear mother knew my transformations at school were more of an exciting exploration than a pain and torturous event now... Stop her worries. Plug up her tears. I told her...eventually...on her death bed actually. She beamed at me and hugged each of my friends, ruffling James' hair, patting Sirius on the back a little too enthusiastically, and pecking the top of Peter's head. I loved her more than ever at that moment. Still do. I have burned that memory in the back of my mind forever. It was like, the Marauder's farewell to her, the woman I've loved most in my life.

My father had been a pilot. His plane went down. In the ocean a month before I was born, he ended. He had named me Remus. Little did he know that was all he would ever give me, a name. Mother was all I knew. I had no extended family, they all lived in Russia - I have never seen them. So, between becoming _indisposed_, shall we say, once a month and loosing Mother to cancer when I was 16, I thought I would never be truly happy again. I believed I would die alone, sad and lonely - the sooner the better. Lonely, Loony Lupin.

That thought was only enforced when 'It' all started. The war began and James died. The ministry sent Sirius to Azkaban. Peter simply disappeared. All at once, one movie screen flash right there before my very eyes, and yet again I found life out of control. I knew then that I was meant to die a cursed life. Anyone I neared befell terrible injuries or death.

That, strange as it seems, was how I learned to feel. I am aware of every waking thought, of sounds that haven't happened yet, of the slightest trace of smell, and I can hint a single emotion miles away. Part of it came with the bite and being what I am, part from studying so hard and taking up anthropology, magical style, for a few years. The rest is simply because, unlike some people who stop feeling when they lose what is most dear to them – I wallowed in the sadness, the depression, the pain. It overwhelmed my every waking hour until I learned to cope. All those ridiculous steps like '_acceptance is the first step to recovery_,' they all applied. I let the emotions wash through my body, cleansing my soul. That is, if a thing like me has a soul.

I am therefore determined. I am now aware of what I must do.

Saving people was always James' line of work. It was his _thing_ you know? But I need to take a leaf out of his book, for his own child's sake. Harry is alone. Everyone he loves is captured by Tom, left to die, or concerns over him to a point of insanity, constant worry and sacrifice. I know these occurrences all too well, and plan on helping him. Asking Dumbledore today was quite possibly one of the easiest things I have ever done – for although I do not believe in destiny much, it was _meant_ for Harry and I to help each other.

Perhaps it is written in the stars that '..._and there will be two male wizards whom will be cursed with death and destruction, it will follow in their wakes no matter their decisions, choices and actions...' _and blah blah blah. Well, I plan to change that. We are the cursed ones, so we cannot hurt each other anymore than we have already suffered through. Why not band together?

The boy is like a son to me. I think of him as my charge – beyond any doubt he is my sole responsibility. Harry will therefore live with me this summer and until the end of his education and he finds himself a job. That is if he wishes of course. Our lives ring with parallels; they are one in the same. Tonks may feel she understands me and I may think that I understand her, yet Harry is my exact reflection. If you cannot understand your reflection, you are nothing. I am his possible future in a bent, twisted, mutated sort of way.

Determined to help him move on with his life much more quickly than it has taken me, I welcome him into my home. Tonks always wanted a son. I cannot give her one, but Harry will serve as a boy to love for the both of us. What took me so long to realize my duty to care for him? I cannot say. Perhaps it was the thick foggy clouds of my own emotions hooding my eyes...I fear I will never know for certain.

I have much to say to Harry, and I will say it. We have much to feel and it will be felt. There is much to do in life, and our lives – we _will_ live them.

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Please review: I tried not to let this drag on for too long, but I was writing under the influence of intense pain medication. I just got my wisdom teeth out, not illegal meds, I don't do that sort of thing. 

Also: If you would like me to continue this story with something of Harry's reaction to moving into Remus' and Tonks' house, let me know in your review. I have two English papers to write before school starts, field hockey, and Band camp starting Monday the 9th of August...so yea...let's hope I have time if more if it is wanted!!

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To my reviewers: Thank You!!! 

Moo ::: thanks babe! I'm going to try!

Lunar Blade ::: Sweet/Angsty/I like all adjectives!! (Especially radish-like…what a spectacular word?!?)

Someone ::: I did do that didn't I? Well, as long as I write a sequel and have Harry and Remus getting along and all that would that quench your thirst?


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